


Under Pressure

by Xenomorphic



Category: Shazam! (2019)
Genre: Drabbles/Ficlets, Found Family, Gen, Slice of Life, Some hurt/comfort, post-movie canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:19:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenomorphic/pseuds/Xenomorphic
Summary: Pressure pushing down on mePressing down on you, no man ask forUnder pressure that burns a building downSplits a family in twoPuts people on streetsThe life and times of the ridiculously overpowered (kids) heroes of Philadelphia (and the confused couple who watch over them).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Shazam & co. are owned by DC and Warner. I just really wanna give these kids a hug. Also, title and lyrics are from the Queen/David Bowie song, because yeah, I think it kinda fits.  
> This will be a series of drabbles and/or ficlets based on the Shazam movie. I'll be adding to it whenever I have something new ready, which could be next week or next month or next year, sorry.  
> Let me know of any mistakes (English isn't my first language), and do tell me what you may think!

  * **They take on the habit of watching the news for anything regarding their new local superheroes. Sometimes they cheer, and sometimes they frown, and occasionally they delve into the most intense debates.**



They take on the habit of watching the news for anything regarding their new local superheroes sometime near the end of January. It’s, uh, _something_ , Rosa and Victor can agree on that. Sometimes they cheer when they make some daring rescue, like when _Gray_ and _Purple_ (honestly, their aliases change every day and they sure as heck are not gonna try and keep up with them) get a couple of families out of a burning building before helping with putting the fire out, and sometimes they frown, like when _Green_ stops a police officer from assaulting a protester and Freddy sleepily mutters what might be a curse to the cops entire progeny, huh. Occasionally, they delve into intense debates about responsibility, strategy and dealing with the public, and then they wait with bated breath, but over a month later and they’ve all managed to keep it civil, unlike that dinner not so long ago when Billy and Freddy started throwing shade at each other as they watched with growing horror.

“I guess we should be happy?” Victor says one night when they stay in the couch watching a movie after the night broadcast. “It’s a, uh, bonding experience for them, right? And they haven’t killed each other or made anyone cry over it.”

He’s intently staring at the screen, as if it held the answer to all of his questions, past, present and future, instead of illuminating the room with the bright, sunny colors of a typical rom-com.

“Maybe, at least as long as we don’t think too much about it.”

Truth is, she must agree with him. After Billy had spent an entire week without vanishing, getting into fights and just generally behaving like a poster child, only for then to disappear from the face of the Earth for an entire Saturday with nothing more than asking Darla to tell them “not to worry”, it was clear to them that the poor boy didn’t know much about how life in general worked, except, maybe, _don’t get killed_. It didn’t help that he was soon labeled a “trouble child” at school, even though he behaved rather well and stopped getting into fights as soon as the bullies realized it just wasn’t worth it to risk their, uh, genitals just to pick on him or Freddy (or anyone, hell); teachers simply didn’t like it when a _kid_ called them out and it angered them even more when said kid didn’t seem to care much about the consequences (“ _I guess it’s what poking a bear with a stick feels like_ ”).

So when they started their now daily routine, with Billy finishing his homework next to Freddy and Eugene in the nights, or brushing Darla’s hair in the mornings, sometimes even falling asleep with the others on a pile on the couch after a long, tiring day, respectfully and consciously speaking his mind, laughing along with everyone and just seeming to have a good time, it was like a weight had lifted off their shoulders. It wasn’t the solution to all their problems, but maybe it was the beginning to solving _his_ problems, even if Billy didn’t know it yet.


	2. Hold (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darla’s an overly affectionate bundle of chaotic energy. Billy… doesn’t do well with affection. They make a compromise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet contains some probable spoilers for Darla's backstory in the New 52 run, so if you haven't read it and want to, uh, don't read this?  
> Do let me know of any mistakes, please and thank you. Hope you enjoy!

Darla’s an overly affectionate bundle of chaotic energy. That’s it, there’s no getting around to it. She talks until she runs out of breath or needs to swallow spit or asks you something, and she’s always moving, even if it’s only the tips of her toes, and she loves giving hugs and taking your hand and poke you wherever she can reach (usually his ribs because _of course_ ) to catch your attention.

Billy… doesn’t do well with affection, or really any kind of positive physical interactions. It’s probably what people call trauma, but he hasn’t asked to see a therapist and he doubts Rosa or Victor will push him to see one any time soon, still tiptoeing around him when it comes to his emotional and mental self. It’s fine and he appreciates it, it gives him time to, well, many things really: to relax and to _root_ himself to this place and this people, and learn to trust them and accept that they care for him, even if that voice in the back of his head that tells him _to leave_ , _to move_ , _to keep going forwards_ , _you don’t need them_ , will take time to truly leave him, even after meeting his mother and everything _that_ was.

So, that leaves _Darla_ and _Billy_. They’re diametrically opposed - and he hadn’t fully understood that word until now - even if they’ve been through very similar things, at least regarding their parents. He guesses it’s because of her age, she was so young when she met the Vasquez, and he would likely be different now if he’d met them when he was littler, but also because she _knew_ , she knew her parents didn’t want her, that they’d drop her with the Vasquez the way you drop a dog at a shelter or on the streets. It’s messed up, but that knowledge probably helped her move forward, become the bright little nugget she is, unlike his blissful ignorance, always pushing him in search of a memory.

Either way, they make a compromise.

They (not so) secretly call it the “one hug a day keeps the baddies away” rule, and he’s pretty sure everyone in the house knows about it by now, even Rosa and Victor, who are probably pleased, if a bit confused, at the development.

It starts like this: it’s a couple of days after the whole Dr. Sivana _thing_ and he has to stay behind at school to talk with one of the teachers, so he tells Freddy to tell Victor not to wait for him, he’ll just take a bus. By the time he makes it home he’s tired, and maybe a little grouchy, because now he has to work on a science project with people he doesn’t even know, and okay, he won’t actually blame Darla, but she did _startle_ him. He goes stiff as a board as soon as her little arms surround his hips and then he snaps something, he forgets what right as he says it, but he knows it’s mean. He stares at her, wide eyed, and she stares back, her mouth making a shocked little “o”.

“Shit,” he lets out and immediately covers his mouth, their eyes and mouths comically wide by now and then Darla giggles, at him swearing or at the way he must look he doesn’t know, and doesn’t _want_ to know, but it’s enough to diffuse the tension. He kneels in front of her and looks straight at her eyes, right there in the foyer, crossing his fingers that they still have a few moments alone.

“Hey, Darla, sorry I said that,” he takes her tiny hands in his and she shivers at how cold he is. “I didn’t mean it, okay?”

She’s still smiling, but she speaks in a more serious tone.

“You say a lot of things you don’t mean, do you?”

“I guess I do. I’m not used to- well, any of this?”

She looks at him like she’s the dumbest guy around, which, _fair_ , but still unwarranted.

“You mean caring?”

“Something like that. Do you really like hugging that much?”

“Yeah, they hugged me a lot when I first got here.”

“Victor and Rosa?”

“And Mary.” She gets a troubled look on her face, “do _you_ really hate it that much?”

He has to mull that over for a moment.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I’m just not used to it.”

The arrangement is very simple: Darla gets to hug him once, and only once, a day; the place and time doesn’t really matter, but she must always tell him instead of just going for it. She soon gets it down to a science, making some sort of incomprehensible system to make the most of the hug. It _works_.

 


End file.
